Impossible Hope
by SilverGlimmers
Summary: Set after The Flash and Arrow mid-season finales. Barry receives the news of Oliver's death. In his grief there is only one person he feels he can talk to - Iris West. Meanwhile Iris struggles with the issues of trust and hope while she navigates a complicated and difficult future.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Barry knew something was wrong the second he entered S.T.A.R. Labs. One moment he was sauntering into the room feeling pretty good about the thieves he had apprehended _and_ the fact that he had eluded Eddie's task force, the next his smile dropped as he surveyed the scene.

Caitlin was on the phone, and looked on the verge of tears. Cisco and Dr. Wells were both standing at attention (well, Cisco was, Dr. Wells was leaning forward in his wheelchair) as if awaiting a heavy verdict. Barry looked from one to the other and moved closer to Caitlin as well. He leaned towards Cisco for information, and being the fount of information he usually was, Cisco immediately obliged.

"Caitlin called Felicity to ask if the DNA results she sent were helpful." He muttered in a low tone. "I don't know what's going on but it sounds very bad."

"I'm so sorry." Caitlin tried to control her wavering voice as she spoke. "What will you do…Of course, of course. Please call us if there is anything we can do from here. Okay. Okay. Bye." Caitlin hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment. The men waited in suspense. For two of them it felt like several seconds. To Barry it felt like a year.

Caitlin took a deep breath and looked at them. "That was Felicity" she said unnecessarily "and…umm…Oliver is dead." The tears finally spilled over as the men stood in horror. Cisco looked like he might vomit, Barry could only stare at her with his mouth open. Even Dr. Wells looked disturbed, his brows knitted together and his jaw set.

"But-" Barry began. "But that's not possible. We were just there. How…who?"

Caitlin shook her head. 'She wouldn't say much about it. They are trying to keep it quiet. The last thing Starling City needs for every criminal to know that The Arrow is dead. But they're pretty sure."

Barry shook his head slowly. It couldn't be. It just couldn't. His hands went to his head, pressing in on both sides. Oliver was the ultimate survivor. There was no way. He could never… He swallowed hard and headed for the door. "I have to go." He muttered as he started running. For all he knew they didn't even hear him, he took off so fast.

He ran. He ran as fast as he could, trying to outrun the truth. It was lucky he still had his suit on, or his clothes would have burned off in seconds. Windows exploded as he raced down the street. The shattering noise and shards of broken glass echoed his own mindset so perfectly right then that he wasn't even sure if it was the glass he was hearing or just his own world fracturing. He cleared the city limits in minutes and was halfway to Starling City before he even realized where he was headed. Part of him wanted to keep going, to get to Felicity as fast as possible. What she must be going through right now… He knew how she felt about Oliver, had known it for such a long time now. She had to be devastated.

But the other part of him, the one that was still trying to keep the screaming from bursting out of his throat knew that he would be no good to her right now. He was just trying to deal with this news himself. He was neck deep in his own grief and couldn't be a capable shoulder to cry on. Not right now. Not while his shoulders carried such weight. The best he could do was let Diggle and Roy be there for her right now, and hope they were up to the job. _Please let them be up to the job_….

Memories and emotions flowed freely, sliding past him on the wind. _"You can inspire people in a way I never could." "I'm trading away little pieces of myself..." "It means I have some humanity left." _God, what would they do now? Would Roy be able to keep going, by himself? What would Diggle do? How could this happen? He could barely even accept that Oliver was gone. Oliver was always there. Stubborn, brutally honest, tough. He had cheated death so many times Barry had grown comfortable in the idea that Oliver would always come out on top. _"I have been doing this for almost 8 years now, and I am still alive. _Wasn't it just weeks ago that the team had visited Central City? _"You can always talk to me." _Even less time had passed since he had been in Starling City and helped Oliver take down Captain Boomerang. Oliver had built a case for Barry's suit. "_For the next time you're in town." _Barry was sure Oliver had not realized just how incredibly happy that had made him. And their sparring afterward had just been the icing on the cake. "_I get it Barry, I get it. You're fast." _He ran even faster. Tears burned his eyes and blew past his face.

He didn't go to Starling City. He ran back to Central City and raced around it for a while. He turned his comm off. He couldn't imagine talking to his team right now. Not right now. But he needed to talk. It needed to get out of him, this pain. He thought about talking to his dad, but that was probably not a good idea. His clothes were definitely wrong and his dad had no idea about his powers, much less that he was a friend with the Starling City vigilante. Joe? Joe had called The Arrow a crazy man. Granted, after Oliver's invaluable help while Barry had been 'whammied" his stance on that opinion had changed a bit. But Barry still couldn't imagine trying to talk to him right now. He felt like time had reversed, and he was once again that child who couldn't talk to anyone about what had really happened to his mother, because no one had believed him.

Actually, one person had believed him. Had always believed him. In him. Until recently. Without even realizing it, he changed course and headed towards downtown Central City.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Iris West used to believe in the impossible. She used to believe in hope and wanted to spread it around to everyone in Central City.

But that was before her hero attacked her boyfriend. That was before her best friend had suddenly confessed the love he'd been hiding from her their whole lives. That was before Eddie asked her to move in with him. Her life had suddenly turned upside down and now nothing made sense. Not her fallen idol, not her future. Not even her past. Life no longer offered hope and adventure. It held difficult choices and disillusionment..

Iris had meant it when she told The Flash not to contact her anymore. His unwarranted attack on Eddie had left her horrified and unable to trust him. He had said another metahuman had affected him, and part of her believed it because it made sense. He had been so different that night, a stranger. But the damage had been done. She could no longer see him as she once had, a knight in shining armor. Now all she saw was Eddie bleeding, crawling on the ground while The Flash stood over him. Now instead of a hero, he was unpredictable and dangerous. She updated her blog on his activities, but no longer invested herself in it. Eddie had yet to even catch up with The Flash, but she had put her support fully behind her boyfriend. Eddie was always there for her; it was him she should stand behind.

And yet…life had been much more lacking lately. She no longer felt the thrill of excitement and hope she got when searching for the impossible, because she no longer searched. She had found it, and it had beaten up her boyfriend. She had discovered why Barry had been acting differently around her, but that just opened a Pandora's box of confusion-_Don't think about that. Don't think about Barry._ Iris quickly blocked thoughts of her best friend and his recent declaration. It was just too difficult to think about. Too hopeless. Whatever she did, she would hurt someone. Whatever she chose to do with her life, someone got hurt. Her search for the impossible had led to heartbreak and confusion on all fronts. No more. Hope itself was impossible at this point. Better to live without it, even if it meant life was more depressing. She was done with The Flash, and everything about him. Barry-well that was more difficult. For now she was simply avoiding him and what he had said. Not brave maybe, but definitely wise. Iris was all about the wise decisions lately.

So when Iris spotted _him_ on the security camera, standing on the rooftop of Jitters, she spent time debating which move was wisest. Of course it was The Flash. Even half in shadow, on the far corner of the roof with his back to the camera, she knew who it had to be. By far the wisest choice, she reasoned, would be to just leave and go home. She was working the late shift; no one else was there. No discussion, no possibility of an angry attack or her decisions being swayed. Part of her was angry that he hadn't taken her seriously. He had no right to show up after she had asked him not to. Part of her knew full well she could do very little to defend herself if he suddenly became violent.

But the other part of her remembered the last time she had seen him. His helpless "Iris, I'm sorry." No attack there. He knew she could handle herself; he'd even complimented her cross when she'd knocked Tony out cold. She stared at the camera monitor, debating.

In the end, she went to the roof. She'd tell him to leave and make her point. Problem solved. She peeked through the glass door cautiously, almost expecting him to be right at the door. But he was still where she had first seen him. His back to her. In the far corner. Staring out onto the city. That was her first inkling that something was different. As she continued to watch she realized what seemed so wrong about him. He was…still. His back was to her so his face wouldn't be vibrating, she knew. But it was more than that. All of him was still. Iris had rarely seen him hold still. Usually he was darting around, impressing her with his speed, face vibrating, smiling, winking, shifting, talking, watching her. But now he was like a statue. A statue with weighted down, slumping shoulders…. The world seemed to be passing over his still form instead of the reverse, which was very disconcerting. He hadn't moved the entire time she had been watching him. He looked, for lack of a better word, _lost_.

That was what convinced her to push open the door. She knew the second he heard it because his head shifted slightly to the left. Immediately his face was vibrating, even though she was feet away from him in the dark, and his back was still to her. She opened her mouth to tell him she'd meant it when she said he shouldn't contact her anymore, but he beat her to it.

"I'm sorry." His voice was warbled as usual. "I know I shouldn't be here…. but…I...didn't know where else to go."

Her brows came together. She took several steps closer. She considered him a moment, choosing her next words carefully. Phrases like _are you all right, what's happened to you _and _why are you here _all floated across her mind. Finally all she could decide to say was "Did something happen?"

He too waited a moment, as if deciding how much to say. "Yes. But I can't talk to you about it unless you promise not to put it in your blog. It's important. An entire city of people could be endangered if you write about it. Promise me."

Curiosity, concern and irritation warred within her. What was so important an entire city could be in danger? Was it her city? Were people she loved in trouble? Why did he feel he should come talk to her about it, didn't she say not to come anymore? Where did he get off asking her for anything?

Finally, curiosity won out. "I promise."

He nodded, but even then his words came slow. "I've…had some bad news…my friend…The Arrow…is dead."

She stared at him a moment. That was honestly the very last thing she had expected. "The Arrow. The Starling Vigilante? I didn't realize you were friends. You didn't seem much like it when I saw you two together." He lowered his head, but said nothing. It hung between them, that night and his attack on Eddie. Neither really wanted to say the words out loud, but they hung in the air nonetheless. The silence stretched. She folded her arms defensively. "I did some research on him after he visited Central City. Isn't he a murderer-"?

He cut her off before she could finish. "He was a hero!" He was so forceful about it she had the feeling he'd had this argument before. Before she could reply, it was as if a damn had broken and he couldn't stop the words from coming out. His voice, warbling with anger underneath, was too much a reminder of Eddie's attack. He half turned towards her and she backed away a few steps. "He told me he believed I could inspire! He went through so much darkness and still wanted to do good. To save his city. To do what was right. No one knows how much he gave up! A life of his own, love, friends, _himself._ He almost _died_ so many times trying to serve the people of Starling City, but that's how they will remember him! A murderer. But he was so much more than that! And now he's given his life!" He stopped for a moment to draw breath, and seemed to realize how much his vehemence had unnerved her. He took some deep breaths and tried to calm down. 'I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here."

Iris spoke quickly, hoping to stop an abrupt departure. "Wait, wait. _I'm_ sorry. I just don't know much about him. His base of operations is so far away and he-"she faltered, "didn't seem to have any um, special skills."

The Flash huffed humorlessly, turning away again. "He had skills. Just not ones like mine. Didn't seem to stop him much." _"I have strategy and tactical awareness."_ His face twitched under the vibrating, maybe a half smile.

Iris thought back to _that_ night, and all she could remember was a gruff stranger in green with a bow and arrow. All she could hear was his voice, telling –no, _commanding_- her to run. She had, with barely a second thought. Later she had looked him up, but it hadn't brought much illumination. He had killed people. His city was in constant unrest it seemed. The police had only barely stopped looking to arrest him. He didn't sound like someone who would be mourned much.

But his death had affected The Flash this much… She gazed at The Flash, who seemed lost in thought. She took a few steps closer again, then turned and leaned back against the wall, very careful not to look at him. They were now facing two different directions. As she'd hoped, his face stopped vibrating. He continued to stare out at the city.

She had thought it would be easy to turn away from him, to never see him again. He was like two different people to her now: the flirty, dashing hero, and the violent, angry man in red. But more than anything, she realized, she wanted to _understand_. Understand how one and the other could be the same man, how the one in green she researched and the one who had died could be one and the same. _Heroes_, she thought with an eye roll, _are so complex_. So she took a deep breath. It was now or never. She stared directly ahead as she spoke her next words softly, as if she was trying not to spook him. "What happened that night?"

The Flash stiffened. His face began vibrating again.

"I told you-"

"Yeah, I know, another metahuman messed with your head. But I never really thought much about what happened after I – left. What happened then?"

His face stopped vibrating, but only after he glanced at her sidelong to assure himself she was still facing forward. She made sure she was.

"When The Arrow got there I was- well- you saw what I was." She gave a short nod. "We…fought. I wasn't holding back at all, I might have killed him, but he never stopped trying. And after everything I had said, everything I had _done_, he still looked me in the face…and he told me he still believed in me."

Iris's eyes suddenly stung. She blinked furiously. "How did he help you out of –what you were?"

The Flash looked down at his hands. "He managed to contain me long enough for -um- the cure to take effect. I really don't know how long I would have been like that if he hadn't been there. I have nightmares about what I could have done in that state. I was really lucky he was there."

Iris felt a rush of sympathy she hadn't expected. _She_ hadn't even managed to still believe in him after that night. But this harsh man in green had. "He sounds like he was a good friend." She wanted to touch his arm, but was pretty sure he'd move away.

The Flash nodded. "He really was. I just can't believe he's gone."

"I'm so sorry."

He nodded again. He opened his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by the chirping of Iris's cell phone. She took it from her apron pocket and glanced at it. Eddie's face was clearly shown on the screen.

Another memory surfaced, Oliver's face wavering before him, almost apologetic, earnest. _"Guys like us don't get the girl."_ Then himself, telling Eddie and Iris he was happy they were moving in together. He shouldn't be here. Everything had changed. _"You need to let her go, for both your sakes." _

Milliseconds had passed. Iris was still holding her phone, her thumb descending to the screen, to ignore or answer he didn't know which. He stood straighter suddenly, as if he were shaking something off.

"Thank you for talking to me." He warbled, "I really needed it."

"Yeah." She murmured, distracted. But before she was even done saying the word, he was gone. She felt cold in the breeze he left behind as she stared down at her still ringing phone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Iris rushed along the sidewalk, heading for the bank in the middle of the block. She kept her head down, avoiding the rain. She splashed through puddles and shifted her bag. She was a woman on a mission.

The best part about Iris studying journalism was that it was actually a good fit. She was inquisitive and pretty insightful. She noticed trends and put things together. She thought she would have made a good cop, but that was another story.

One trend she had noticed was the 'angry people' that had surfaced all around the same time of the Flash's own angry episode. While he was usually very closemouthed about ongoing cases, she remembered Eddie telling her about his day at work the day before. He had been shocked at a young mother's actions at a bank, firing a gun and almost killing someone. _"I'm telling you, babe, people are crazy." _From the sketchy information she could glean, The Flash had intervened. She was almost positive. She remembered the bank robbery that had occurred in the same time frame and the "riot" that had occurred inside that never really made sense. There was more to this story, she knew it.

And she just couldn't let it go. She tried, she really did. A few days had passed since she and The Flash spoke on the roof. But in all that time her brain kept coming back to it. Analyzing, reflecting, wondering, questioning. She poked around Starling City's news reports and found not a whisper of The Arrow. Nothing on his activities in the very recent past, nothing on his death. Iris had easily put together that Starling City was the city in jeopardy if it became widespread news that their vigilante hero was dead. That would be nothing more than a billboard-sized invitation to every criminal and enemy of The Arrow to show up and start wreaking havoc. So she kept her promise not to blog about it. Journalism was one thing, risking innocent lives was quite another. But this story, this one she could pursue. She tried to ignore the fact that she was feeling the first thrill of excitement she had felt in weeks.

Iris was also smart enough to know that even if her father had more information on this case, he would certainly not be sharing it. The man was a closed book when it came to that. She also didn't want to tip him off that she was looking into it.

So, being without police reports, names or a really good hacker, Iris went with what she knew: The name of the bank. She had waited until the end of the business day, hoping she could get an employee to talk to her alone. There was no way she could ever guess which customers had been at the bank that day. She was fully aware that she was completely winging it, but considering she had so little information, that seemed to be the way to go.

Iris stepped into the bank and shook off her coat in the lobby. She carefully surveyed the scene and the employees. Three tellers, what looked liked maybe a manager on his way to the back vault and a security guard. She tried to look inconspicuous as she approached the table with deposit and withdrawal slips and picked up a pen. She tossed her hair back and used the opportunity to surreptitiously size up the three tellers.

One looked angry already. Maybe that was her usual face, Iris mused, but she didn't look like she'd be willing to talk to a stranger. Another was cheerfully chatting with a customer while she typed into her computer. The last looked like she could not wait for closing time. She kept looking at the clock as she quietly waited on customers. Iris noticed she was sporting a light cast on her left forearm, and had just zeroed in on her as a possible candidate when her gaze fell on the security guard at the door.

She wasn't sure what it was about him that drew her attention, other than his utter stillness. That was a bit familiar. She dug into her bag, pretending to be searching for something as she appraised him up and down. He wasn't The Flash, she was sure of that, his height, build, age and color were wrong. He looked about the age of her father, actually. But the stillness was eerily similar. He stood at the front of the bank with his hands clasped in front of him, his shoulders slumping. He cautiously watched the lobby and the customers it contained as his job dictated, but he looked far away. He looked…ill? No, she decided. He looked _ill at ease_. He looked uncomfortable in his own skin. Like he didn't know who he was or what he could do anymore. He looked hopeless. She knew that look. As she studied him through her lashes, he adjusted his waistband. He took great care to avoid both the gun and the holster holding it.

This was it, she decided triumphantly. This was the guy she should talk to.

She waited for the bank to close, leaning against the building near the employee parking lot. The rain had started to abate some, which she was very glad about. She pondered different approaches. Say she's a journalist? Sadly that would probably scare him away. People didn't like talking to the press much. Grad student, doing a research project? Maybe. He finally came out of the back entrance and headed towards his truck. Iris approached with her most winning smile. He halted when she greeted him but didn't look too happy to be stopped. Oh boy…

"Hi!" She smiled again and held out her hand. "I'm Iris and I…um…wanted to ask you a few questions if you don't mind."

He looked like an animal ready to bolt. "About what?"

"Well, I wanted to talk about the incident that happened at the bank a few weeks ago, you know the one where-"

That was all she could get out. He moved past her and started to unlock his truck. "I'm sorry ma'am, I don't know who you're with but I am not talking about _that_. Sorry." He pulled open the door.

"Wait!" She grabbed his arm. He waited for a moment, out of politeness she could only assume. She took a deep breath and dropped all pretense. "I have a friend who I think went through something similar and I'm looking for answers. Please. I need answers. Please talk to me."

He looked away for a moment and swallowed. "Ok. What do you want to know?"

Iris relaxed. "Again, I'm Iris. What's your name?"

"Robert."

Iris smiled a genuine smile. "Nice to meet you Robert. Let's go find a place to sit out of the rain."

They found a coffee shop around the corner. It wasn't Jitters, but maybe that was a good thing, Iris decided as they found a table near the back. She really didn't want to advertise that she was investigating this. Robert still looked ill at ease as he sat across from her, refusing to remove his coat. Though it was possible, Iris thought, that it was less because he was ready to run and more because he still had his security guard uniform on underneath.

They ordered something warm to drink and smiled awkwardly across the table at each other. He seemed to be waiting for her to open the conversation. Fair enough. She took a deep breath and plunged in.

"Robert, I know that something bad happened a few weeks ago at the bank. I think my friend had the same thing happen to him. Can you tell me what happened?"

Robert looked down at the table. "It was an ordinary day at work. I was on guard near the front of the bank in my usual position. A man in dark clothes came in wearing sunglasses, which is an automatic red flag. I asked him if there was something he needed, and he took off his glasses." Robert drew in a deep breath. "All I remember is everything going red for a moment. And _then_ all I remember is being angry. So angry. I punched a nearby customer. I think I was going for my gun when it was knocked out of my hands. Someone else body slammed me and I hit the ground, but I remember kicking someone's feet out from under them after that and punching them too. It all happened so fast. Then I heard two gunshots, and the charity collection money shattered. The rage just faded away and I was looking at this young blond woman holding _my_ gun, she'd just fired it at someone. I'm so glad she missed. Everyone looked so shook up, like they had all just experienced the same thing I did. I told the police what happened and they did an MRI on me, didn't find much. I don't even know if they believed me."

Iris stared at Robert, her brain sliding the pieces into place. That man _had_ to be the metahuman. The one that had messed up The Flash. It was very possible that The Flash had been there and deflected the bullet from the gun. Knowing him, The Flash had probably set out to find this man immediately. Obviously he had found him.

Robert had been staring at the table the entire time. Now he looked up at Iris, as if checking to see that she was still there. He couldn't disguise the faint pleading tone in his voice. "Does that sound like what your friend had happen to him?"

"Yes, actually. Yes it does."

Robert had been holding his breath waiting for her answer and suddenly realized it. He let it out in a great gust as the waitress delivered their drinks. Iris smiled at the waitress and thanked her, then blew on her coffee. Robert ignored his drink. He leaned forward towards Iris, suddenly intent.

" I have wanted to talk about this since it happened but I didn't know what to do. I thought about seeing a counselor or something, but how am I supposed to explain what happened? They'd think I was nuts. No one at the bank even wants to acknowledge that it happened and the police weren't any help. So now I'm just going through the motions, but the truth is this has messed up my entire life. I don't know what to do."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

And suddenly, she was on the receiving end of a second outpouring.

"What I _mean_ is that I don't even know who I am anymore. I always thought of myself as pretty laid back. I'm not an angry person. I had _never_ hit anyone before or since, but now that I know I am capable of that I don't really know if or when it will happen again. I'm afraid of a relapse all the time. And I'm a _security guard_! I'm supposed to keep people safe from danger, not cause it. I'm supposed to protect! I feel like a sham every time I put on this uniform. I don't deserve to wear it. Someone almost got killed with _my_ gun! I can't go back to what I was before, but I don't want to be this." He was breathing hard, close to tears. Iris held her silence, sensing that he wasn't finished.

"And the worst part," he continued, "is that whatever that man did to me just magnified something inside me. While I was angry, all these emotions I never let take hold welled up inside me. I was angry with my parents for getting divorced when I was 10. I was angry at the last job I had, how they treated me and then laid me off. I was angry at that first customer I hit for bumping into me and being rude about it. All those feelings were there, but I never spent time dwelling on them and they just came bursting out with so much violence. It was horrible." Tears were welling up in his eyes. "I can't trust myself anymore. I've been thinking, maybe I should just quit my job. Maybe I should leave. My daughter doesn't need me in her life if I can't be trusted."

"Your daughter?" Iris pressed.

He nodded. "Samantha. A few weeks before the incident, she had my first grandbaby. Beautiful baby girl named Clarissa." He hung his head. "I haven't been around to see them since it happened."

"Why not?"

He looked down at the table. His voice was almost a whisper as he confessed, "I don't trust myself. My granddaughter is so tiny and fragile. How can I hold her when I might be dangerous to her?"

"Robert." Iris's eyes shimmered with tears as she leaned forward and placed her hands over his, which were clenched together on the table. She waited for him to look up and meet her gaze. When he finally did, she tried her best to show him her genuine concern and caring. "Robert. This was not your fault. Even if the emotions were yours, the actions were not. That man did something to you and it is _his_ fault. You are still you. You are not the guy who exploded that day. It's over. Have you ever seen red since then?" He shook his head. "Have you ever felt the need to hurt someone since then?" He thought for a moment, then shook his head again. "Your daughter needs you, and so does your granddaughter. Please don't continue to punish yourself for something out of your control." She searched his face, anxious to see if he was accepting any of this. "Call your daughter; see if she's free tonight."

Robert held on to her hands as if they were a lifeline. "Do you think I can be trusted? Do you trust your friend, after something like this?"

Iris stared at him. She really wanted to be honest. Any bit of artifice now could drive him in the wrong direction. But in order to be honest, she really had to consider his question. _Did _she think The Flash could be trusted?

She thought of all the times he had saved people. The train wreck. The time he had slid through Tony's legs and put her as far away as possible before standing _in front_ of her, protecting her. She thought of the first time she had actually laid eyes on him, flashing up the side of a building to rescue an anonymous window washer. The account of the scarlet angel bearing the injured armored truck guard to the hospital. The way he had apologized for not being there when the Clock King had taken her and her father hostage. She remembered his rage, his anger, Eddie on the ground, and her own words floated back to her. _"I know that you have risked your life to help people, to save them. Someone who does that does not just suddenly turn around and want to hurt people!" _Again, his helpless apology came back to her. _Did_ she think he could be trusted?

The short answer was: Yes. She did. If she hadn't she would never have gone up to see him this last time, while he was standing on the roof so still.

"Yes." She said firmly, staring Robert full in the face. "Yes I do."

That did it. Robert looked like a wall had broken down somewhere. His shoulders lifted. He smiled so wide at her, squeezing her hands gently. "Thank you." He whispered. "Thank you so much."

Iris laughed. "For what? You did most of the talking."

He chuckled in return, and then turned serious. "Yes, but you actually believed me. Believed _in_ me. I don't know who else would believe a crazy story like that and take it so seriously. You are one in a million, Iris."

She smiled back. "Guess you just needed someone like me, to believe in the impossible."

"More than that, you gave me hope. Thank you."

"Anytime, Robert. Now call your daughter."


	4. Chapter 4

_Sorry, I know this one is short! It just seemed to flow better if I split what I had into two chapters instead of one. I hope you enjoy it anyway! Chapter 5 should be up late Sunday or early Monday if all goes well. Thanks for reading! :)  
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**Chapter 4**

_"Barry? You okay?" _Oliver's voice echoed out of the past.

Barry sat in S.T.A.R. labs, alone. The others had gone home for the day, and he was glad of it. Both Caitlin and Cisco had developed a bad habit in the last few days, and it was really getting to him. Between both of them asking almost constantly how he was doing, and their tendency to speak in hushed voices around the corner from him, he felt like a lab rat with a terminal disease.

He knew they only meant well. He knew they were concerned about him. He also knew they were each trying to deal with Oliver's loss themselves. But after talking with Iris on the rooftop, he just didn't feel like chatting with anyone else about his feelings. That conversation had both helped him and hurt him. He didn't really know what to do about any of it anymore. He felt too close to the breaking point to handle anything of a weighty nature. Not Oliver's death, not Iris, even The Flash seemed too difficult.

It was good that things in the city had been fairly quiet since the news came. Barry's crime fighting schedule had been pretty light, with no metahuman detections or disasters. He still patrolled, but had to admit to himself that much of the reason was now because he could simply run, be on his own and think. Think about Oliver, think about Iris. Both seemed lost to him now.

The moment Caitlin, Cisco, and Dr. Wells had headed out for the night, Barry had pulled one of the computer station chairs into the doorway of the room that held his Flash costume, placed on its dummy for safekeeping. He slouched in the chair; his legs sprawled in front of him, and absentmindedly twirled a pen in one hand as he stared at it. The mask kept drawing his gaze. The mask that covered half of the dummy's face and the smooth expressionless face underneath it combined to make his own suit seem like something a stranger would wear. He remembered Oliver's agitation the night he'd been poisoned and Barry had saved his life with rat poison, of all things. Never mind the fact that he'd almost died, the subject Oliver had cared more about had been Barry discovering his true identity. Barry could still hear his voice. _"The difference is that I did my homework on both of you! I don't just tell people easily."_

It was interesting, thought Barry, that it had been himself who had told Oliver he should be wearing a mask, and then proceeded to make one for him. One would think, given their personalities, it would have been the other way around. _"Take your own advice. Wear a mask." _

A mask… Barry straightened up slightly. Maybe he had suggested a mask so quickly because in one way or another, he had been wearing a mask most of his life. Pretending that he loved Iris only as a friend. Pretending it didn't hurt when others saw so little worth in him. Pretending that he didn't know how people laughed at him as he searched for the impossible. Pretending that he didn't think of his parents every day. Sometimes the mask had disguised himself from himself.

Barry let out a deep breath. His knowledge of what Oliver had gone through the five years he'd been absent was very limited. But the scars on his body and the way he interacted with life told Barry a lot. Barry wouldn't even pretend that he had seen the likes of what Oliver had, but he had always felt that they helped and understood each other in a way that no one else did. Because of how they chose to live their lives and the suits they wore, they knew how it felt to be both a part of society and outside it. It was a delicate balance, and came with a price. Barry had always taken comfort in the idea that he had another hero around who would understand. The memory of the two of them leaning on each other like brothers in arms as they limped away from their battle rose up in his mind. "_…if not there are two of us, right? Right." _

But now there was only one. That, he realized, is what hurt the most. Not only had the world lost a good person and a great hero, but Barry had lost the one other person he knew who lived a double life like he did. And that left a void that was not likely to be filled any time soon. Add that to the loss of Iris in his life lately, and it was no wonder he couldn't quite put himself right.

Iris. She was avoiding him after he'd told her the truth. He knew it, and he couldn't blame her for it much. It had been a huge relief in one way to finally tell her, to let go of the fear that he had always harbored about losing her. It was time to stop trapping himself with fear. But he had known it would change things. And so it had.

Much as he loved her, above all he just wanted Iris to be happy. He had done his best to express it that night, when he had told her and Eddie he was happy for them. Then she had turned and caught him looking at her as Joe lit the tree lights. For one heart stopping second he had thought maybe she returned his feelings. Or maybe at the very least, she wouldn't withdraw and would stay his best friend. No such luck. But he only had himself to blame.

Barry stared at his suit as he thought about their last conversation as Iris and The Flash. Even if she could bring herself to trust him again, she was moving in with Eddie. Eddie with the task force to track down and bring in The Flash. Eddie who was basically a good person in spite of his task force, and who was now going to live with Iris. Barry just didn't feel right about secretly meeting with Iris anymore, not when she was in such a committed relationship that she would now be living with Eddie.

So now he was on his own. For real. As much as he loved Joe and the others in his life, they filled their own places. They just could not fill the gap left by a fellow hero and the love of his life. Barry had always dreamed of marrying Iris and having a family. He had wanted more than just the life of a hero. He had wanted it all. Barry still believed in protecting the city, helping those who needed it. But now it seemed like that was all that was left. Important pieces of his life were being stripped away far too quickly, leaving him with only one thing.

The blank-faced stranger in his suit stared back at him, and for the first time Barry felt like he understood what Oliver had meant the night Lyla had been injured.

_"The part that I am trading away is Oliver Queen. And lately I've been feeling like there's nothing left except The Arrow."_


	5. Chapter 5

_Sorry it's a day late! There will probably only be one or two more chapters after this one. Thanks for reading, and thank you all so much for your wonderful comments and support! :)_

Iris was on a high for hours after her talk with Robert. She couldn't stop grinning. She felt so good, she was sure everyone could see the light that had to be bursting out of her. Even Eddie remarked on it. _"Wow, babe, what's up with you today?"_ Not wanting to divulge her recent activities and the hero they centered around, she had just smiled a breezy smile and answered. _"Sometimes the world can be a beautiful place."_

When she'd started her blog on The Flash, her aim had been to investigate the impossible. Something about a streak of red saving people had set her on fire in a way that nothing Barry had ever investigated had. She had wanted to give Barry hope that the impossible was out there, and maybe even find a lead on his mother's murder. (Okay, that last one was a long shot.)

But soon after she got started, the idea that this hero could give people in the city hope became her almost all consuming goal. The Arrow had been right. The Flash could inspire people. Nothing anyone in her life could say would disabuse her of that idea. He had definitely inspired her, and he had given her hope. She had wanted to share that with anyone in the city who would read her blog.

After a face-to-face conversation with Robert, she felt like her blog had breathed itself to life and given Robert a huge, hope filled hug. She had left him on the phone with his daughter at the coffee shop, and exited onto cloud nine. It felt incredible to give someone hope like that. She could serve coffee with the best of them, but this was what she felt like she wanted to actually do for the rest of her life.

Was this what The Flash felt every time he pulled someone out of danger? She could see the appeal. Their first conversation on the rooftop rang back in her ears. _"Can you stop? Running into buildings and rescuing people without them even knowing that you're there?"_ They were more alike than she'd ever thought. She couldn't run fast, and she didn't have a red suit, but their aims were the same. Helping people. He wanted to inspire, she wanted to give hope. Maybe hope wasn't as impossible as she'd thought.

When she finally started to come down a cloud or two, her thoughts ran in a host of other directions. Robert's mention of his own feelings coming into play brought up a whole new dimension of The Flash's behavior that night. Things he'd said now made much more sense.

_"You think you can just come along and have whatever you want? What gives you the right?" _ For someone who had been regularly saving people and helping his city, it must have been very upsetting to learn that a cop thought he was dangerous and trying to arrest him and bring him in. He had even helped the police catch criminals several times. A task force out to get him was like a slap in the face. He hadn't even killed people like The Arrow had early in his hero career. She could see how he might feel betrayed by the very people he was trying to help.

_"You don't know me! You don't know who I am! You never did." _Does anyone really know a hero? Iris wondered as she served customers at Jitters the next day. Sure they must have some kind of real life to live in their off time as a hero, but did anyone have a view of both sides of their lives together? Even if they did, how did they know which was the real identity? Heroes really _were_ complex. It sounded a bit lonely.

It was obvious to Iris that The Flash had some kind of inner circle. She'd seen him talk into the comm in his suit. Someone was clearly feeding him intel on the other side. But she had the feeling the things he'd said while he was so angry came closer to the truth than he'd realized at the time. He felt like the mask he wore prevented her from truly knowing him, and he probably didn't feel understood by others. _"What other girls?" _he'd said, and she had blushed. But if the only person he felt he could talk to after The Arrow's death was someone who had told him never to contact her again, he had a much smaller circle of people he felt he could open up to than she'd thought. Obviously The Arrow had been in that circle in some way, even if he did live in another city.

The Arrow. That guy was still a bit of an enigma to her. She hit the computer again.

Iris spent her break and the rest of her evening after work on her laptop. Before she had done a cursory search for news of The Arrow. Now she started digging. She spent several hours combing through lesser known news sites and personal blogs. Anything that gave her an idea of what this man had done. She found accounts of hostages saved, people assisted in a burning building after a bombing, another bombing prevented, and a story about a young man named Roy saved from a vigilante killing people live on camera. The siege on the city last year unfolded in news stories, and while there were differing versions of what exactly happened, every account unanimously reported the police department rallying behind The Arrow in the attempt to take back their city. He had saved Oliver Queen and his friend from kidnappers, helped shipments of medical supplies actually reach desperate hospitals, and rescued a kidnapped man by the name of Walter Steele. The Arrow was quite a busy man. Yes, there were deaths he was responsible for. But there were also so many lives saved.

Even with all she found, Iris had the feeling she was just scratching the surface of all this man had done. She was pretty sure that for every reported thing he'd done, there were probably three more unconfirmed or unrealized actions. Some stories never made it to the media's eye.

The Flash was right, he really was a hero. She was deep into an eyewitnesses' account of The Arrow heading off a cross-town bus before a train creamed it, when a voice jarred her out of her focus.

"Hey, babe."

Iris jumped and automatically put her hand on her laptop, half closing it. "Oh, hey babe." She attempted a casual smile.

She was planted at a spare desk in the precinct, waiting for Eddie to be finished for the night. Eddie's eyes flickered to her hand, still resting on her laptop, before he continued. "I still have to do some more paperwork to do, it'll probably be another 45 minutes. You okay waiting that long? We can go to dinner another night this week if you want."

Iris smiled for real. "No problem, babe. I'm just killing time on my laptop."

Eddie hesitated a moment, then nodded. "Okay I'll try to hurry."

"Okay." The second he was gone she had her laptop open again. She finished the eyewitness account and sat back, reflecting.

This particular hero had many more rough edges, it seemed, but his heart was in the right place. She was glad she had taken time to inspect his activities closer. She had The Flash to thank for that. Except that now she was truly sad that The Arrow was gone. Starling City was sure to be a much more dangerous place now. And The Flash had lost a vital part of his support system, it seemed.

Iris frowned. She had once been part of The Flash's support system. It was disturbing to realize how quickly she'd lost it after that night. The Flash had told her the truth of what really happened. Why hadn't that been enough for her? Yes, his actions had been horrifying and frightening. But she hadn't even given him another chance after that. She closed her laptop for good this time and sat back in her chair.

He had saved her from Tony, and she had put him on a pedestal. In truth, she had probably put him there before Tony. In her eyes he had been the hero who would always be there. She had expected him to come when The Clock King had taken hostages at the police station. But he hadn't. In the end, Eddie's gun and her own actions had taken care of that problem. The Flash had apologized, but she hadn't even been _that_ disturbed. He said it couldn't be helped, and she believed him. She had realized that even with his incredible abilities, he was not an all-powerful omniscient being. He was still human. She'd still been planted firmly on his side. In fact she hadn't even thought twice about warning him when Eddie's task force idea started to emerge. It hadn't bothered her to view him less as an unbeatable force and more as a man. Even as a man, she had believed in him as a hero.

A man.

_"You're worth being on time for." "What other girls?"_ Thinking about his flirty responses made her blush again.

And then it hit her.

She was attracted to The Flash.

She exhaled like she'd been punched in the gut. Secretly meeting him had gotten her more and more invested emotionally, and the attraction felt like mental cheating on Eddie. She looked up quickly, afraid that her thoughts showed on her face somehow. Her hands went to her mouth of their own accord. That was why she had dropped him so fast after that night, without letting him explain or justify his actions. It was the perfect excuse to break off any contact, because just being in contact with him was getting more and more confusing. She had felt guilty.

Iris felt her pulse quicken the more she dwelled on it. The Flash had flustered her so much at the hospital she had forgotten her coffee. Their last meeting before the attack he hadn't even wanted to leave. Eddie was a good person and she loved him. But the fact remained that she had dropped The Flash less because of what had happened that night, even though it had been terrifying and upsetting, and more because she hadn't wanted to deal with her feelings.

Well she was dealing with them now. Now she felt guilty about both. She was drifting away from Eddie and withdrawing support from someone she had really believed in. Someone who seemed to really need it. Attraction or not, she still believed in him as a hero and helper for the city. She couldn't just drop him again. Not after the other night, not after the death of his friend.

Great. Now she was in the middle of a huge problem with no easy answers. Might as well chuck in Barry on top of it all and have a huge guilt fest of difficult situations.

"Iris?"

She started and looked up. There was Barry, as if her thoughts had just conjured him there. Her best friend. Her best friend who loved her. She stared at him for a second, mouth open, until she registered the look of concern on his face as he stared back.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "You look upset."

Iris couldn't help but smile. Barry was dealing with plenty lately she was sure, and yet his first concern was her. "I'm fine. There's just a lot going on right now."

His gaze flickered and dropped. "Yeah, I guess there is." He attempted a reassuring smile that would have fooled most people. It didn't fool Iris.

"Are _you _okay?" She countered. "You look…sad." It was true. He had the same look he'd worn for much of the first year after his mother had been killed. She didn't like that at all. Feelings or no feelings, he was still her best friend.

He smiled wider this time, putting more effort into his act. "Yeah…no, I was just worried about you. And work stuff was really hard today, so…"

She stood up, came around the desk, and tilted her head up to look him straight in the eye. "Barry Allen, I don't believe you."

His eyes skittered away from hers. "I'm fine. I'm okay. I should head up." He gestured to the stairs as he backed away.

Iris grabbed his arm. "Barry, wait. I know things are really weird lately. I'm sorry we haven't seen each other much. Maybe we should have lunch or go to a movie soon."

He hesitated a fraction of a second before he nodded, but it was enough for Iris to know that he didn't really believe it would happen. He looked spent. Like he'd run a long race and still come in last. He turned away with a half smile and headed for the stairs, looking more defeated by the moment.

Iris spotted her father headed out of the Captain's office and hurried over. "Hey, Dad."

"Hi, honey. How was work today?"

"Dad, is Barry okay?"

Joe's head came up from the file he'd been reading. A crease formed between his eyebrows as he answered. "Yeah, as far as I know. You haven't been around very much lately. Everything okay between you two?"

Iris refused to be distracted from her original question. "He just looks…different. Like something really bad happened." She tried to ignore the one thing she knew had happened recently in Barry's life, she already knew plenty about that. She worried there was something else.

Joe looked towards the stairs Barry had just climbed, carefully phrasing his reply. "The world can be a cruel place, Iris. And nobody seems to know it better than Barry." He gave her a rueful smile and headed to his desk as if the matter was settled.

Iris headed back for her laptop, feeling more unsettled by the second. First The Flash and now her best friend. Was there some terrible cloud of depression settling over the world?

The hope she'd given Robert seemed so far away now. She stopped at the desk and gripped its edge, resisting the urge to stamp her feet.

Enough. It was time to start doing something. She'd hidden too long now. She took a deep breath as she thought about what she was about to do.

Minutes later she had hastily told Eddie she didn't feel well and was heading home. She'd promised not to write about The Arrow's death. But people needed hope. And she was going to give it to them.


	6. Chapter 6

_Well I got started and couldn't stop! Here is the final chapter. Thank you so much for the wonderful feedback and comments. You guys are the best! Stay tuned for more WestAllen action, kind of a continuation of this one. (What is that, a sequel?)__Enjoy! :)_

** Chapter 6**

**Saved By The Flash**

** Heroes Come in Many Colors**

** By Iris West**

_If working on this blog has taught me anything, it's that there are many different types of heroes. Some are easy to spot and hail as the hero they are. Others are more difficult to recognize. A few are never even called a hero at all. No matter their status, one fact remains: All of them in one way or another deal with the darkness in life so they can help others. They risk everything. Some become so immersed in darkness that it becomes hard to see the way out. Others will bear scars for life. But they do it to bring others hope, life, and safety. They inspire me and I hope they inspire you._

_Heroes can inspire the people they serve and the others who aspire to be like them. They can help us all want to do good and be better. But we need to do the same. Maybe a hero only needs someone to believe in them to be the hero they really are. It's our job to give them hope in return for everything they give us._

_It's also our job to thank our heroes for the difficult job they do. I'd like to thank all heroes everywhere. Those who are still working in darkness to bring others light. _

_The ones who may not be called a hero. Those who have given everything, including their lives. Those lost too soon. _

_We won't forget you for your sacrifice. You continue to inspire us, even in death._

_We owe it to the heroes we still have to rally around them and support them. I hope you will join me._

Barry sat back in the computer chair and stared at the screen. There was a lump in his throat he couldn't quite swallow, and tears in his eyes that hadn't quite fallen. He now understood why Caitlin hadn't let him near the computer all day, then sat him down in front of it on her way out with a gentle but knowing smile.

Words couldn't express the gratitude he felt. Iris had been so careful not to reveal anything vital, but had still managed to say everything he needed to hear. She always got him in a way no one else did, even when she didn't even know it was him she was talking to. He half-laughed to himself. God, she was perfect.

He glanced over at his suit on its dummy. He had intended to never again visit Iris as The Flash. But her support of Oliver meant the world to him, and it would be wrong not to thank her for it. One last time couldn't hurt…

It took him two seconds to make up his mind, and even less time to change into his suit.

What did take time were the laps around the city he ran as he waited for night to fall.

Iris was really hoping The Flash still read her blog at all. She had caught herself hoping to be swept to the roof the moment after she pushed the send button on her article. But that had been last night. Granted, she had been at home, but she still found herself wishing it.

She was working the late shift tonight though, which was a good thing. She cleared the tables and stopped at the security camera monitor between each one. Nothing. She washed dishes, checking every few plates. She wiped the tables down, refreshing her rag far more than needed so she could pass the monitor one more time. With two tables to go, she checked again.

And there he was. His back was to the camera, but he wasn't quite in the far corner this time around. That was a hopeful sign.

Now that she knew he was there, she took a few moments to calm down and get her plan together. This is not about attraction, she told herself firmly. This is about a hero who needs hope. She wasn't going to let her feelings get in the way of supporting The Flash. He deserved that much. She exhaled slowly and tried to stop her hands shaking. It felt like the weight of a city was riding on this. Breathe, breathe.

She stopped at the glass door again and peeked through, trying to gauge his mood. He wasn't completely still. He shifted his weight back and forth as he waited. But his shoulders still looked like they carried a lot of weight. Hopefully that would lift in time, as the pain of The Arrow's death faded a bit. And maybe with a little help from a friend. She hoped. She breathed deep one last time and pushed open the door.

He turned to face her as she walked towards him, his face in shadow. She stopped a reasonable distance away, knowing if she moved too close he'd just dart to another location.

"Hey." She smiled at him. "I was hoping you'd come."

The Flash nodded. He looked serious. His voice warbled, same as ever. "I read your latest blog article. It….I….just wanted to say thank you. What you wrote about The Arrow meant a lot to me."

She nodded too. "I'm glad. I meant every word. I did a lot more research on him, and he really was a hero. And a good friend."

The Flash swallowed. "Thank you." He looked away for a moment, and then looked back at her as if for the last time. "I should go now."

Iris looked at him. He still looked stiff and awkward. "Flash. Anytime you want to talk, you can talk to me. Stop by any time. I mean it."

In a blink, The Flash was over by the door to the stairs, clearly prepared to leave. She was left standing alone in the middle of the roof. She spun around. "Thank you, but I don't think your boyfriend or his task force would appreciate that. Goodbye Iris."

"Wait!" Iris spoke as fast as she could, sure any second she'd be speaking to thin air. "I have a problem and I really need your help."

The Flash hesitated. Then, with a sigh that clearly said it was against his better judgment, he waited for her to speak.

Iris assessed the distance between them. They were at least 20 feet apart. She wanted him closer to say what she wanted to say, but was pretty sure running up to him was a bad approach. The memory of their first rooftop conversation floated back. An idea struck that she wasn't even sure would work. Her heart pounding, she turned around so her back was to him and spoke over her shoulder. She willed him to come closer as she talked softly.

"Look, I have this friend; and he had something terrible happen to him a few weeks ago. He's been trying to help the city. He can do these impossible things. He was helping and got really messed up. And the police are hunting him…and people turned from him. And then his friend died. And now, it's like he's lost his faith. But I believe in him and I think this city needs him."

The Flash's careful reserve dropped as he listened to Iris. It was a good thing her back was to him. His emotions crashed inside him as he listened with eyes wide and mouth open. He approached her, drawn by an invisible magnetic force. If ever he had a case of the feels, this was it. He felt like his chest was going to burst. Before he knew it, he was standing right behind her, just like the first time. She knew it too, and just like then the urge to turn around was too much. She turned and looked at him. He barely remembered to put his head down. She whispered the same words she'd said before.

"Help me save my friend."

The Flash gulped and blinked his eyes rapidly. He couldn't contain the smile that broke free as he lifted his already vibrating face and completed it.

"Now _he'_s a lucky guy."

They both laughed softly, and he ducked his head down in order to stop vibrating his face. It put too much of a wall between them, and he'd rather have his head down and be closer. She seemed to understand and didn't press the issue.

"Flash. Please don't stop talking to me. With your friend gone you need that more than ever."

He thought for a moment and replied, "What about Eddie and his task force?"

She was ready for that. "Eddie is a grown man and can make his own decisions. But so can I. I don't want to hurt him, but he just doesn't understand the good you do. I won't leave you alone in this."

He nodded, his head still down. It occurred to him that the honorable thing to do would be to tell her that he was fine and had other people to talk with him. But he wasn't sure she'd believe it, and he knew he didn't.

"Okay. Thank you."

"Yeah." She smiled.

Maybe he was high on emotion, or maybe he just couldn't resist the opportunity. Probably both. Head still down, The Flash said "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Iris replied.

"You said you and your friend weren't on the same page anymore. Are you guys…any closer to being on the same page?"

Iris sighed. "My friend and I are really complicated right now. But he's so important to me, and I'm still worried about him. We'll have to see how that goes."

The Flash nodded. It was actually better than he had hoped for. "He's still a lucky guy."

Iris thought of Barry and smiled. "Yeah. Hey, do I get a question?"

The Flash warily answered. "Within reason. There are some things I can't say."

Iris looked at him. "When your friend told you he thought you could inspire, did he say anything else?"

The Flash nodded again. "He told me that he thought the- that I was the way I was for a reason. That I was chosen. I don't know if I believe that."

Iris smiled. "I do. I definitely do."

The Flash smiled at the ground, but his smile was so wide she could still see it.

After Iris had gone back downstairs and The Flash had departed Jitters, both still had some thinking to do.

Iris went back down to Jitters and found herself staring at the front door. The door Barry had walked in the day he awoke from his coma. She remembered the pure joy that had exploded inside her at seeing her best friend awake again, something she had never thought would happen. It was a miracle he had returned to her. The nine months he'd been absent had been some of the worst of her life.

The impossible had happened. Her friend had come back to her. If that didn't inspire hope, she didn't know what did.

Hiding from what he'd told her was just driving them apart, which she didn't want, and hurting him, which she also didn't want. If she could handle the crazy strangeness that was her feelings for The Flash she could handle her best friend having feelings for her. It was time to confront it and make things better. She had no idea what it would ultimately lead to, and what it meant for her relationship with Barry _or_ Eddie, but she was ready to move forward.

And for the first time, she actually felt hopeful about it.

Barry left one rooftop and started looking for another one, the highest he could find. He raced up the side of the building, remembering his first days with his new powers, and running all the way to Starling City to get advice from the one man who might understand. The one man he wouldn't have known at all if an impossibly strong thief hadn't ripped the door off Queen Consolidated Applied Sciences with his bare hands.

He stood on the top of the building, next to a waving flag, and thought back to that first conversation with Oliver. He thought of the hope that Oliver had given him, and the hope Iris had given him tonight.

He looked up at the night sky and wished Oliver well, wherever he was. One last memory drifted through his brain, but this time it brought comfort.

_"You can be better. Because you can inspire people in a way that I never could - watching over your city like a guardian angel... making a difference... saving people... in a flash."_

Barry smiled at the stars. "Thank you Oliver," he said softly. "Thank you for everything."


End file.
